


Extending every co-operation

by Margot_Lescargot



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: M/M, Spoilers for False Value, Threesome, established Seagale, tfw Molly is done with your shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-19 10:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22909906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Margot_Lescargot/pseuds/Margot_Lescargot
Summary: Based around one very specific Seawoll-centric scene in False Value.  And what that 'phone call might actually have been about.
Relationships: Thomas Nightingale/Alexander Seawoll
Comments: 14
Kudos: 36
Collections: Burdens of Responsibility





	1. chummy

**Author's Note:**

> As noted, this is set during the course of the action of False Value and contains (mild, but still) spoilers for it.  
> No reason why it can't fit into wider Seagale series of fics on this site.  
> Unbeta'ed. Title taken from _that_ scene in False Value.  
> 

Alex stepped outside the shop and plucked his ‘phone out of his inside pocket. He stood, breath pluming in the freezing air and smiled, as he dialled a number without thinking. He put the ‘phone to his ear and waited for the connection.

‘Hello, Alex. Where are you?’

‘Still in the Medways. I’ve just seen Peter, and given him his orders; you won’t be seeing him until tomorrow.’

‘I wasn’t expecting to. Is that what you’re telephoning to tell me?’ Alex could hear him move away from the mouthpiece. ‘Molly. Molly! Where are you going with that? Sorry, Alex,’ the voice was back in his ear, ‘We’re clearing the next set of rooms for the builders. What was it you wanted? Are you not coming here later?’

‘Yes,’ said Alex, with exaggerated patience. ‘I am.’ He took a breath. ‘But I just wanted to call and let you know: you remember the conversation we had the other week?’

‘Alex, you’re going have to be more specific. Which conversation?’

‘Thomas, I’m standing outside a crime scene. Peter is still here. I can’t just bellow it out.’

‘Yes, very well, but you’ll have to give me at least some sort of clue - Molly! Doesn't that go to the third floor with the others? – Sorry, I’m up to my eyes here. You were saying…?’

Alex took another breath. ‘We had a conversation, the other week, when we were discussing… perhaps seeking company of a, er, temporary nature…’

Alex could practically hear Thomas’ attention snap back to him. ‘Oh yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘You mean, _that_ conversation, when you were…’

‘Yes. _That_ conversation.’

‘I see.’ Alex waited, and knew that he was imagining the exact expression on Thomas’ face.

His voice came back on the line. ‘And so…?’

‘And _so_. I happened to have to speak to the Medways Chief Super about all this shit – who I actually know from Gravesend years back, as it goes – and basically give him a bollocking in return for him bollocking officers on my investigation. And so - bollocking over - it turns out we had a few more areas of common ground than we might have thought… and the upshot is, we’re meeting for drinks on Friday.’

‘I see,’ said Thomas again, but this time in a much less sanguine tone. 

‘What?’

‘Alex, I don’t mean to be rude, but are you sure he knew what you were getting at?’

Alex rolled his eyes. ‘Er, well, let’s see. He asked after you; he knows we’re together; he knows you’ll be coming along. Given the way the conversation went, I don’t think there’s much chance of crossed wires, but I suppose we’ll find out on Friday.’

‘And you really think he’ll be…?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Alex chuckled. ‘Like I say, I know him of old. Let’s just say that, outside the job, I believe him to be fairly flexible.’

He waited for this to sink in. It did.

‘Interesting,’ said Thomas. There was a pause and then, ‘Alex, you minx. I really suppose I ought to say thank you.’

‘Not at all,’ said Alex, grinning down the ‘phone. ‘And I know it’s a couple of weeks late, but, anyway - happy birthday, trouble.’


	2. drinks

Molly admitted Alex with a small smile and closed the door behind him. He headed into the atrium and lingered by the group of armchairs. She followed and stood by him, inclining her head.

‘No, it’s ok, thanks Molly. He knows I’m here. I called when I was leaving…. No. Just out. Nowhere special. Why?… What?… How long? Bloody hell… Well you know what he’s like. And, it’s all to a good end…. Yeah, I know…. No. I’m good, thanks. I’ll just wait for him here… Ok. You have a nice evening…. ‘Night Molly.’

Alex sank into one of the cracked leather armchairs and pulled out his ‘phone. In the end, it was only a matter of minutes before he heard Thomas’ footsteps on the stairs, a little more hurried than his usual measured gait.

‘Alex. Sorry – have I kept you? Are we going to be late?’

‘No, it’s ok. We’re only going down the road. We’re fine for time.’ He stood. ‘Ready then?’

‘Yes.’ Thomas alighted and crossed the floor swiftly to join Alex and kissed him briefly.

‘So. How many times?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘How many times?’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘Thomas. How. Many. Times?’

Thomas sighed. ‘Um, four. Perhaps five.’

Alex raised an eyebrow.

‘Very well. Six. All told.’

‘And are you done now?’

‘I am.’ Thomas grinned, self-consciously. ‘Sorry. But it has been a while.’

‘It’s fine. Do what you need to do. And you look’, he punctuated the statement with a kiss, ‘extremely handsome. As always.’

‘Thank you. And are you? Ready I mean?’

‘Ready as I’ll ever be, I reckon.’ It was Alex’s turn to grin. He took Thomas’ arm and guided him towards the front door. ‘As far as I’m concerned, we go along, meet Eddy, have a few drinks, see what happens.’ He shrugged. ‘No harm done either way. Ok?’

‘Yes,’ said Thomas. ‘Ok.’

*

Alex pushed open the doors of the pub and entered, Thomas one pace behind him, almost running into the back of him as he stopped on the threshold to scan the throng. The place was busier than he expected and noisier than he would have liked.

Alex evidently spotted who he was looking for, as he raised a hand in greeting and headed for the far end of the bar. He edged through the Friday evening changeover crowd - the end of the after-work drinkers and the beginnings of the Friday night contingent. The division between the two elements wasn’t quite as obvious here, as in some of the other places in Soho, as they had, for obvious reasons, suggested meeting in a place where the clientele were generally older, and therefore less likely to participate in those Friday night activities that would have obliged Alex, at least, to arrest them.

Alex approached a man standing in – Thomas observed approvingly – a relatively quiet corner of the bar. He was not overly tall, a shade under Thomas’s height, with short salt and pepper hair and, on closer inspection, humorous brown eyes. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with a compact, muscular body that was not entirely obscured by the crisp white shirt and the tight jeans that he wore. 

‘DCI Thomas Nightingale, Chief Superintendent Edward Rivers.’ Alex performed the introductions.

‘Oh call me Eddy. How do you do?’ said Eddy in a soft southern Irish accent, shaking Thomas’ outstretched hand, whilst giving him a swift and practised up-and-down look which left Thomas in no doubt of the veracity of Alex’s assumptions.

‘Well, thank you,’ said Thomas, his lips twitching. ‘And you?’

‘Grand, grand,’ said Eddy. ‘Can I get you gents a beer?’

‘Cheers,’ said Alex and turned to Thomas as Eddy headed to the bar. ‘Well?’ he said, trying not to look smug.

‘He seems very nice,’ said Thomas and then, seeing Alex’s slightly crestfallen expression, leaned forward to murmur in his ear ‘I mean, of course: well done.’

‘But,’ he said straightening, ‘from all you said I was anticipating someone a little more, I don’t know, formidable.’

‘Don’t underestimate him,’ said Alex. ‘He’s laying on the Irish charm tonight – and no wonder – but he made Chief Super in not much more than twenty years. Not in central London, I grant you, but still. You don’t get that without being as hard as nails.’

‘No indeed,’ said Thomas, casting an eye at Eddy’s back view as he stood waiting to be served. ‘Hard as nails you say? Yes, I can well imagine that.’

Alex rolled his eyes. ‘Calm down, trouble. We’re not leaving just yet.’ He chuckled. ‘Give it a couple of drinks at least.’

Thomas favoured him with a level look.

Eddy returned with drinks, handing one to Thomas, his hand lingering on Thomas’ briefly as he did so. He then took up his own glass, while standing closer to Alex than the number of people in the pub really demanded, his hip momentarily grazing Alex’s thigh.

They drank and chatted as the crowd ebbed and flowed around them. Alex and Eddy discussed how it had been to arrive in London, as a policeman from the regions, perceived consequently as a provincial by their London-born contemporaries – not to mention the gay thing - and having to work that much harder as a result to move up the ladder. Thomas, who had little to contribute to any conversation relating to promotion within the police service, instead spoke to Eddy of Ireland and reminisced about horse-riding holidays that he taken in Kilkenny as a child, with his uncle and one of his sisters.

The conversation flowed easily and meandered over any number of topics, both job and otherwise. Judging by his ready smile and - there was no other word for it - flirtatiousness, Eddy was clearly as satisfied with the set up as they were.

He could not speak to Eddy’s apparent reputation within the service, but Thomas found him to be charming and engaging company. Easy on the eye too. At one point, as Eddy was talking animatedly about early-morning rowing sessions on the Medway, Thomas caught Alex’s eye, who smiled and gave him a surreptitious wink, and Thomas mentally placed another tick in the column tallying his boyfriend’s positive qualities.

A second then a third drink was consumed by each, pretty swiftly it had to be said, as the pub, even the relatively quiet corner which they occupied, got progressively busier as the Friday night hordes began to make their presence felt.

Eddy surveyed his empty glass. ‘So, gents, what’s it to be?’

‘I think it might be time to move on,’ said Alex. ‘Don’t you?’

‘I’d say so,’ said Thomas.

‘Well as you both know,’ said Eddy, moving closer perforce to Thomas, to let a couple squeeze by behind him, but not retreating again once they had moved on. ‘My place is out in Rochester, so…’

‘I believe we can accommodate you in town,’ said Thomas, settling a hand briefly at Eddy’s waist. ‘Isn’t that so, Alex?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Excellent,’ said Eddy.

They gathered their coats and made their way through the crowded pub and out of the exit, Eddy maintaining a hand on Alex’s back as they did so.

Out on the street, they paused. ‘So which way, then?’ asked Eddy. ‘Do you two…?’

‘No, no. Thomas here has his, er, official quarters, shall we say. I’ve got a place up in Islington.’

‘Islington? Right you are then. Cab is it?’

‘Well, no, actually. As it happens, I’ve got my brother’s wife and his kids visiting for the weekend before they go back to uni.’ He shrugged, ‘and as this was all relatively short notice, I couldn’t really put them off. But Thomas’ place is big enough.’

‘But, hold on. Isn’t Thomas’ place…?’

‘Yes. That’s right.’

‘You want us to go back to your nick? Are you insane?’ Eddy looked genuinely perplexed and Thomas could begin to see where he got his reputation from.

‘It’s fine,’ said Alex. ‘Honestly. It’s a big house more than anything. Nothing like any nick you’ve ever seen,’ he added, half under his breath. ‘You’ll see when we get there.’

‘Ok. Fine,’ said Eddy, his good humour returning. ‘It just sounded a bit weird, is all. But I’m sure you two know what you’re doing.’

‘The only slight point to note,’ said Thomas, clearing his throat, ‘is that, because of the nature of the place, we do have a housekeeper. Who lives in, along with her sister. Which is absolutely not an issue, incidentally. It merely means that when we get there we’ll have to go straight upstairs.’

Eddy grinned. ‘That, gentlemen, will not be a problem.’

That settled, they began to make their way northwards along Dean Street, weaving in and around the Soho celebrants on the narrow pavements. As they approached Quo Vadis they came to a necessary halt, Thomas slightly in front, in order to let a black cab disgorge its passengers outside the entrance in front of them. Thomas watched idly as a well-dressed couple got out; as the man bent to pay the driver, he realised with a jolt of horror that he was looking directly at Cecelia Tyburn McAllister-Thames. She stood, adjusting her scarf as she waited for her husband, and as she did so, glanced up and her eyes alighted on Thomas. And then the other two.

‘Thomas?’ she said curiously, coming forward a step.

‘Hello Cecelia,’ said Thomas recovering. ‘How are you?’

‘Well thanks. Are you going in..?’ and she indicated the restaurant with her head.

‘No, no. We’re just, um, , er, heading… that way,’ he said gesturing vaguely.

‘I see,’ said Ty, smiling and then looked pointedly behind him.

‘My apologies. I, er, think you know Alex Seawoll.’

‘By reputation,’ she said, extending a hand, and her smile widened and became more cat-like. ‘How do you do?’

Alex shook hands. ‘How do you do.’

‘And this is Chief Superintendent Edward Rivers,’ said Thomas, with an emphasis on the rank but which he knew, at 9.30pm on a Friday night in Soho, would fool absolutely no one, let alone Lady Ty.

‘I see,’ said Ty again and then addressed Eddy. ‘Cecelia Thames. How nice to meet you.’

‘Likewise,’ said Eddy and shook her hand briefly. 

Ty’s husband had by this time paid and now hovered next to her looking slightly bemused by what was going forward. Thomas took advantage of her brief distraction.

‘Well, we were, er, looking for a cab, and here one is, so, if you’re done, we’ll take this one. Thank you so much. ‘Bye.’ Without further ado he bundled Alex and Eddy into the taxi, got in behind them and gave the driver the address, leaving Ty smirking on the pavement, before she took George’s arm and walked with him through the doors of the restaurant.

Thomas slumped back in the seat of the cab as it moved off, wondering what Ty had made of it all. Actually, it had been perfectly evident from her expression exactly what she had made of it, and she probably wasn’t far wrong. Oh well, nothing they could do about it now. He sighed. Eddy, who was seated between them – and had placed a hand on the thigh of each as the cab moved off - turned at the sound.

‘Alright Thomas?’

‘Yes,’ said Thomas, turning to smile at him and dismissing Ty from his mind. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Good,’ said Eddy, and gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze.

After a cab journey, which Alex, somewhat predictably, noted took longer than it would for them to have walked, they drew up at the top of Bedford Place.

‘Front or back?’ asked Alex, as Thomas paid the driver.

‘Er, front, I think. Let me go first.’

They skulked in the doorway at the top of the steps as Thomas eased open the front door, and peered into the atrium. Satisfied, he motioned Alex and Eddy in behind him. The door closed, with minimal noise, and no appearance of either Molly or Foxglove. They hung up their coats, with whispers and gestures, and Thomas pointed up the main staircase, before ascending swiftly, Alex and Eddy close on his heels

They fell into Thomas’ bedroom, slightly breathless and laughing. Thomas closed the door behind them.

‘Jesus. Seriously. Is that what you have to do every night?’ said Eddy. ‘It’s like being sixteen again. And not in the good way.’

‘No. _We_ don’t have to,’ said Thomas, removing his jacket. ‘When it’s just the two of us. But it’s rather that Molly…’

Eddy stepped directly into Thomas’ personal space. ‘Remind me again why it is we’re talking about this Molly person?’

‘I have absolutely no idea,’ said Thomas, bending his head to kiss him.

‘Good,’ said Eddy, after a moment, and then, turning his head, ‘Alex, why are you all the way over there?’

‘No reason,’ said Alex, moving close enough to kiss Eddy himself, undoing his shirt as he did so.

‘Ah,’ said Eddy, running an appreciative hand up his chest. ‘You are a proper bear then. I did always wonder.’ He started unbuttoning his own shirt, revealing a hard and well-worked torso. ‘Can I hang this anywhere? I didn’t bring a change or anything.’

‘Of course,’ said Thomas. ‘This way,’ and turned into his dressing room, grabbing a hanger and holding it out.

‘Jesus, Thomas,’ said Eddy as he surveyed the room, ‘This is impressive.’ He hung up his own shirt, then turned his attention to Thomas’, pulling it out of his waistband, down his arms and dropping it on the floor, the sensation making Thomas shudder with anticipation. ‘Yours is alright for the hanging, I’m guessing,’ he murmured, his mouth so close that he could feel Eddy’s breath on his lips.

‘Fine where it is,’ and he pulled Eddy’s hard body against his own.

‘If you two are shagging on the suits,’ came Alex’s voice from the bedroom, ‘I’m going to be severely displeased.’

Thomas grinned. ‘Come on,’ and took Eddy by the hand. ‘Sorry, darling,’ he said, crossing the bedroom to Alex.

‘Come here, you,’ said Alex, pulling Thomas towards him. He kissed him deeply, while running his hands along the lean hard lines and planes of his body, in which, after a second or two, he was joined by Eddy.

‘My, but you’re a good-looking pair,’ he breathed, as he alternated between the two of them. He took a step back, staring at them with hooded eyes. ‘Mmh, I might just stay here for a little while, if that’s alright,’ as he pulled out the chair from the dresser and sat down in it.

Alex looked over. ‘If you’re sure?’ he said, as he slipped a hand into Thomas’ trousers, who closed his eyes and groaned slightly.

‘Yeah. You two look very nice. You just carry on… I’ll be grand,’ said Eddy and began unbuttoning his jeans with a lazy smile.

‘Alright then,’ said Alex, edging Thomas onto the bed. ‘You come over and join us when you feel like it.’

‘Oh, I definitely will,’ said Eddy, whose breathing had got a little heavier. ‘Be assured of that. But I’m just enjoying the view right now. And,’ he added, ‘we’re in no rush are we?’

‘None whatsoever,’ said Thomas, Alex being otherwise occupied. ‘We have all night, after all.’


	3. walk of shame

It was still fully dark, outside and in, when the rhythmic and insistent buzzing of an alarm sounded in the general vicinity of the bed.

Alex was first to stir, realizing slowly that the noise coincided exactly with a strange and unfamiliar pulsing against his chest. After a few seconds of incomprehension, he deduced it was emanating from the smartwatch on Eddy’s wrist, where his arm was still flung across Alex, and which he had somehow omitted to take off.

‘Eddy! What the fuck. Your fucking alarm’s going off. What time is it?’ He checked his own watch – the good one – on the nightstand. ‘For fucks sake, its six o’clock!’

He could hear a stifled groan from Thomas on the other side of the bed and felt the movement of him turning and burying his head in the pillow.

Eddy finally came to wakefulness and turned off the alarm with a fluid unconscious movement. He rolled on to his back and yawned.

‘Sorry to wake you, gents, but I need to be on my way.’

‘Really?’ said Alex, yawning himself. ‘Don’t feel like you have to…’

‘No, really,’ said Eddy. ‘Thank you for the offer, believe me I appreciate it, but my five-a-side game starts at ten, and I’ve got to get home first and pick up my kit.’

He sat up and stretched, pulling the blankets off Thomas in doing so, who groaned again and snatched them back.

‘Sorry Thomas.’ He turned to Alex, ‘You two haven’t got plans this morning then?’

‘No,’ said Alex emphatically. ‘If we’re not forced out of bed at some ungodly hour because of work, then, no, we don’t do it by choice.’

‘Oh,’ said Eddy, genuinely puzzled. ‘Right you are then.’ After a brief hesitation, he decided to climb over Alex before springing out of the bed. ‘Is it ok if I have a quick shower?’

‘Help yourself,’ said Alex. ‘There should be towels in there.’

Eddy padded to the bathroom, whistling under his breath, and they heard the lavatory flush followed by the gushing of the shower.

Thomas rolled over to Alex and moved into their usual embrace.

‘What did he say he was doing?’ he said in a low voice.

‘He’s going to play football.’

‘He’s going to…? Now? But _why_? I mean, we only got to sleep at, what, 2.30? 3?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine, trouble. But at this very moment, I’m more of the opinion that the sooner he’s out and on his way, the sooner we can get back to sleep.’

‘That’s an extremely good point, and well made,’ said Thomas, turning his head slightly to kiss Alex on the shoulder and then settling his head again with a sigh.

They were both dozing, when Eddy emerged, steaming, from the shower.

‘Well now, aren’t you two a picture. I’d be tempted to climb back in and join you, but… I do need to be off.’

‘Where do you need to get to?’ said Alex without opening his eyes.

‘Victoria,’ said Eddy, pulling on his jeans. ‘My car’s at the station at the other end.’

‘Warren Street then,’ said Alex. ‘Five minutes from here, tops. Do you need directions?’

‘No. I’ll be grand, thanks. I’ve got my ‘phone.’ He went into the dressing room and came out buttoning his shirt. After a brief search, and some muffled swearing, he located his underwear, discarded under the bed, and stuffed them into his pocket of his jeans as far as he could. Socks, shoes and pockets checked, he perched on the edge of the bed.

‘Right. That’s me then. I’ll be on my way. Thank you both for a very agreeable evening.’

Thomas, remembering his manners, sat up and shook his head slightly to clear it.

‘Eddy, my apologies. I’m not at my best first thing. But thank you also. It was, as you say, highly agreeable.’

‘It was lovely to meet you, Thomas. I’m very pleased Alex decided he needed to ring me last week when he did,’ and he pecked Thomas on the cheek.

‘And good to see you again, Alex,’ he continued, looking over at him. ‘Well, you know what I mean. I suppose we might bump heads again on this investigation yet.’

‘Well if we do,’ said Alex raising himself on one elbow, ‘do not start taking my officers to task for doing their bloody job.’

‘Alex! Jesus.’

‘ _Eddy_! Sex is one thing. The job is quite another. You know that. But,’ he held up a hand as Eddy was about to protest, ‘I did, also, have a very nice time last night, so thank you for coming over.’

Somewhat mollified, Eddy leaned over to peck Alex also. ‘You always were a moody fuck, Alex.’

‘Always? It’s half past six in the fucking morning!’ and he collapsed back onto the bed.

‘Jeez, is it? I must be off.’

‘I ought to walk you out,’ said Thomas, swinging his legs out of bed.

‘Ah no, I’ll be fine. Down the stairs, isn’t it? And straight across that big… room to the front door. It doesn’t need a key does it?’

‘No, just the latch and a Yale lock. Well, if you’re sure..?’ said Thomas, already getting back into bed.

‘No problem. Well,’ said Eddy, getting up, ‘thanks again, gents. Er, see you around,’ and he let himself out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.

‘He’s very lively first thing, isn’t he?’ murmured Thomas, settling back on the pillows.

‘Mmm,’ replied Alex, who was already half-asleep.

Thomas squirmed, and got comfortable, and was drifting off again when there was the sound of a crash and breaking crockery, followed immediately by a decidedly unmanly screech. 

Their eyes snapped open.

‘Oh fuck,’ said Alex.

‘Molly!’ said Thomas.

There was silence. ‘What do we do?’ hissed Thomas.

‘Well, he’s either going to come back up here, which we’ll know about soon enough. Or he’ll make good his escape.’

They waited for a few minutes, alert and straining their ears, but nothing more was heard. 

‘He must have gone.’

‘Yes, undoubtedly,’ Thomas sighed. ‘Shall we go down and face the music?’

‘On three hours sleep? No fucking way. She won’t come up if she knows we’re in bed. We’ll apologise and make it up to her at lunchtime.’

‘Hmmm. Perhaps. But I suspect that this will take more than a bouquet of flowers.’

‘Fine,’ said Alex settling again. ‘We’ll sleep on it and come up with something later.’

‘Yes, I suppose you’re right.’

‘Of course I am,’ said Alex, and wrapped his arms around Thomas as they both prepared to sleep once more.

But in less than a minute, there was an ominous scratching at the door.

‘Molly!’ said Thomas.

‘Oh fuck,’ said Alex.

‘Shall we pretend we’re not here?’ whispered Thomas after a few moments.

‘Don’t be fucking stupid, Thomas. How would she believe we weren’t here?’ He sighed. ‘Come on.’ He heaved himself out of bed and found a dressing gown to put on. Thomas did the same. Alex nodded at Thomas, who took a deep breath and opened the door.

Molly was standing on the threshold with a face like thunder, her eyebrows drawn together in a furious line. She was breathing harder than usual through her nose. Alex didn’t think he’d ever noticed her breathing before. That wasn’t a good sign.

‘Oh, er, hallo Molly,’ said Thomas with forced nonchalance. ‘Everything alright? We, um, we had a friend stay over last night. Did he… did he, er, disturb you on his way out perhaps? Sorry about that.’

Molly’s expression did not change, but her right arm shot out in front of her. Alex, peering around Thomas, took a couple of seconds to realise what it was she was holding. With some difficulty he identified the coal tongs from the set of fire irons that were usually kept on the fireplace in the mundane library. Unfortunately, it did not take him as long to identify what Molly had used them to pick up. His heart sank. That would be Eddy’s underpants, which he must have managed to drop in his scramble to get out.

Oh fuck, he thought.

Once Molly was sure they understood the import of what she was presenting to them, she opened the tongs with a snap and let their contents fall to the floor at their feet. Then she spun on her heel and stalked back down the corridor. Alex couldn’t remember ever seeing her stalk before either.

Alex kicked the underwear into the room and closed the door.

‘Oh dear,’ said Thomas.

‘Oh dear, indeed.’

‘We will pay for this.’

‘That we will.’

‘Cold tea.’

‘Rancid coffee.’

‘Greasy, oversalted eggs.’

‘Burnt toast.’

‘That… thing she did last year.’

‘How long do you reckon?’ said Alex.

‘A month? No more than two surely.’

‘And he _was_ clothed, I mean…’

Thomas sat on the edge of the bed and let out a long breath. ‘Is this the point at which we say it doesn’t matter because it was absolutely worth it, or something?’

‘Well you can, if you like, but if you think a night of passion with a gym-bunny from the arse-end of Kent is worth giving up Molly’s cooking for _two months_ , then you’re on your own.’


	4. Epilogue: "You did what!?"

Insofar as she was physically capable, Molly banged down the tea tray on the table. 

Nightingale flinched. 

She cast an apologetic look at Miriam and disappeared, returning a minute or so later with a second, smaller, tray which held a small china pot and a miniature cake stand displaying immaculate petits-fours which she placed pointedly in front of Miriam.

Nightingale sighed.

‘Thanks Molly,’ said Miriam, as she whisked away again.

‘What was that…?’ she turned to Seawoll and Nightingale, raising her eyebrows.

‘Or, er, nothing to worry about,’ said Seawoll. ‘We’re in the doghouse, that’s all you need to know. but Molly’s very fair; you’re not expected to suffer as well. So, enjoy.’ He looked with distaste at the grey and desiccated slices of angel cake which squatted ominously on the tray in front of him and Nightingale. 

Miriam paused, a tiny mille-feuille on the way to her lips. ‘What do you mean, you’re in the doghouse?’

‘Nothing. Forget I said anything. So anyway, what have we got?’ he said, nodding at the pile of papers Miriam had brought with her.

She was silent and carefully poured herself a cup of tea – noticing that the other two hadn’t even bothered doing the same from the chipped and stained brown pot Molly had provided on their tray. She took a dainty sip and replaced the teacup in its saucer.

She looked at Seawoll and raised her eyebrows.

‘What?’

‘What did you do Alex? What did both of you do?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘O-ho! I beg to differ. It clearly does matter. It matters if Molly is so pissed off with _you’_ and she looked at Nightingale, ‘to warrant this. It must have been bad.’ She cackled gleefully, as Nightingale and Seawoll shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

‘Go on,’ she continued. ‘You might as well tell me now. You know you will at some point anyway. Let’s get it over with.’

Nightingale sat back in his chair, a dull blush suffusing his cheeks. Seawoll glanced at him briefly and he gave the smallest of nods.

‘Molly is, er, upset - and rightly so, don’t get me wrong – because she was unexpectedly surprised, the other morning-‘

‘Could she be expectedly surprised, Alexander?’

‘I don’t fucking know Miriam. Do you want to hear this or not?’

‘Oh I do. Hold on though.’ She inspected the cake stand and selected a doll-sized pastel de nata as Seawoll audibly ground his teeth. ‘Right. Tell on.’

‘Molly was _unexpectedly_ surprised the other morning, when she encountered someone on the stairs – a guest of ours I mean – who she didn’t know was here…’

‘A guest? Is that all? But why would she…? Oh my god!’ Her eyes went wide. ‘Did you have the fucking trade in?’

‘No, we did not have the fucking trade in,’ thundered Seawoll. ‘It was someone from work.’

‘Someone from work?’

Seawoll sighed. ‘Yes.’

‘ _Someone from work_?’

‘Yes! A Chief Super I know. From Kent.’

Miriam took her head out of her hands. ‘So, let me get this straight. You decide you’re going to bring someone back. Here. To fuck.’

‘Really, Miriam,’ interposed Nightingale, hotly. ‘It wasn’t _quite_ like that…’

‘Really, Thomas?’ rejoined Miriam, coldly. ‘What was it like then?’

Nightingale subsided.

She continued. ‘And having decided to do so, you don’t choose some random anonymous twink off of Grindr…’

‘How do you know what a twink is?’ said Seawoll in astonishment

‘Not the fucking point, Alex,’ she replied - as Nightingale looked decidedly puzzled – ‘ So, if I may be allowed to finish,’ and she gave an impressive pause, ‘you didn’t decide on someone anonymous, but a Chief fucking Superintendent from a neighbouring force?’ She took a breath. ‘Now I want what I’m about to say to be absolutely clear, so are you both listening?’ They nodded. ‘Good, so. Are you out of your tiny fucking minds?’ 

No answer was forthcoming.

‘And why here, of all places? Have you not heard of hotels? They’re these big buildings with a lot of beds in them. I believe there are quite a few of them in London.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Thank you. You asked and now you know. Can we get on?’

‘Hold on,’ she said, ignoring him, ‘You said Molly bumped into him. In the morning. He wasn’t naked was he?’

‘No, Miriam, he wasn’t,’ huffed Seawoll. ‘We’re not that stupid.’

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘You’re a pair of idiots is what you are. But really, I don’t know why I’m surprised.’

‘Be that as it may,’ said Seawoll through gritted teeth. ‘Can we get on?’

‘Gladly,’ said Miriam.

They spent the next fifteen minutes working through reports and discussing the case, until Molly reappeared. Ignoring both Nightingale and Seawoll, she hovered in front of Miriam, offering to refresh her pot.

‘No, thank you Molly,’ she replied gratefully. ‘I’m going to be off soon, and the cakes were fantastic. I’m sorry I couldn’t finish them all, but they were… perfection.’ Molly nodded her head and gave a little moue of thanks.

‘And, oh Molly. I heard, and I am so very sorry.’ Molly looked puzzled and vaguely concerned. ‘About them, I mean,’ she indicated with a nod of the head, ‘and what they did.’ Molly’s expression hardened, and her brows drew down. ‘I know, I know. It sounds terrible and it must have been awful for you and really – at their age – they should know better. Of course they should, but I’ve given up trying.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘They’re just idiots sometimes. They don’t think.’

‘Oh I say now, Miriam-‘ began Nightingale, and both turned to quell him with a look.

‘Anyway, Molly, thanks again. I’ll be off now but I’ll see you soon no doubt. And I am definitely going to give Pam your variation on a Bakewell.’ She gave a cheery smile as Molly looked slightly speculative and then nodded and returned to the kitchen bearing the second tea tray.

‘Right then,’ said Miriam, gathering her papers. ‘You both owe me a pint. Or several.’

‘Do we? What for?’

‘ _Because’_ , said Miriam, ‘I think I might have just knocked a couple of weeks off your sentence.’


End file.
